April and the Ass-kicking Bambi Assassins Part 3 Excerpt

Something extra was needed, the ass kicking bambi assassins had been defeated again.
They had tried to stage a revolution overtaking the enchanted forest by uniting with the red squirrel army.
April was livid as a new coalition between the grey squirrels and the badgers had taken the north field.

It split the Bambi assassins down the middle, especially as the badgers had been instrumental in the destruction
of the horsefly army when they attempted to infiltrate the bees, dressed as hornets.
The geopolitics of the forest would strain anybody and April and the ass kicking bambi assassins looked to be
going their separate ways. However the forest can sometimes deliver a miracle and this happened again this morning,
a new animal waded into battle, the mighty boar of boaccus, the wildest most feral animal killer in the entire animal world had arrived in the enchanted forest and would agree to fight cheek by jowl with april and the ass kicking bambi assassins and the red squirrel army in return for full mushroom rights. Slaughter of the badgers and the grey squirrels was imminent.
The north field would be reclaimed, and then the boar of boaccus would be slaughtered as the mushrooms belong to April.

Hamburger and Chips

It was sometime in 1991, Altern 8 were playing a gig out of the back of a pick up truck in some dreary wintry late night car park near Stafford. A heavy scent of vicks vaporub was in the air cascading up my nostrils like an annoying hungry mint mouse had been let loose. Crouching down I could feel warmth, looking up I could feel only cold. I felt a tug on my braces, It was my friend Clarkey, he was off his face and disappeared an hour ago as he believed Nipper was DJing at the other side of the car park.
"Hamburger and Chips" he said holding up a signed photo of Dance Energy presenter Normski.
"what" I replied somewhat narkily as anyone who has tried to converse with the ripped to the tits can empathise with.

"Hamburger and Chips, Dance music man, Like I met Normski and I said to him, Dance music is like Hamburger and Chips, Its like British - chips and American - Hamburger and when you have them together its like Hamburger and Chips - or house music, like we are in Stafford listening to Chicago house from stoke, Hamburger and Chips, Normski flipped out man"

"Oh OK" I said "Dempsey and Makepeace"

"No man" replied Clarkey "you don't fucking understand me man"

Bank

2007 Ok so it is a non descript year. In fact it's the type of year to make you give up resolutions. Yet, Something strange is afoot. Have you seen it. Up and down every high street in the land. It's not those swishy new LED "Open" signs that you see everywhere, god that would be me beating myself up, no it's different. It is not the DFS sale now entering its 15th year of people without socks draping themselves over shoddily built 3 piece suits, nor is it the vague sexual threat of the eastenders spandau ballet dood asking us to get down on it with vague menace at SCS, that would be normal early year fare, nor is the strange shebang this shit winter, I mean shit as in, no snow, no ice, no falling over, no ruining shoes with that white line that you hope is salt, ,no old people dying, no cold just annoying amounts of rain, and not even cold rain, shit rain, wet rain, that wont stop, ever, that means you have to invent new terms for the rain like Druke.

No the strange afoot, if that is indeed an adjective (help I am a foot...does not work)is a new kind of sale. From banks. Yes read that back again, no not for the poor I want to fuck Lynne Truss I hope she notices me i am a bad boy, style grammar of having a sentence that says "From banks." No the weirdness is the fact that I am writing about a
Sale. now. on. at. HSBC....Barclays, Nat West or whatever. HSBC are even saying its a green sale.

Now don't get me wrong, I would be one of those twats you see running into Harrods with his elbows out having camped over since christmas eve, ready for the first sale, if those crazy banks had £10 notes going for £7 quid but that can't be right, I mean the printing the advertising the whole notion of a loss leader to get customers through the doors does not work at banks, so I beg, what the fuck is going on.

Well they want your debt the banks, that's why they give you so much cash, the cunts, unless you are poor, then you can fuck off and we will charge you to everytime you go 1p overdrawn in the morning as you needed some electricity and your giro was due in the afternoon.
Well fine the banks are cunts, that's why it takes 10 days for anything to clear, and people are striking back now by taking them to court over their extortionate charges for more on this look at http://www.bankactiongroup.co.uk/.
So they now have to pursue the stupid people hell for leather. The banks are like Vegas, you might be able to hit them for a few quid, and if you do they will treat you like a king until you fuck up then you are theirs, the house wins, so next time you walk past one and you see a Sale sign, and even if they say they will plant a tree, if you get a loan to buy a fucking giant motorised mince pie or whatever you want to piss your money on, bear this in mind. It is a bank, they are having a sale on, jesus that's wrong, I mean in my day they tried to get me hooked by giving me a sports bag some stickers, a special bank themed version of number one magazine and a Halo James cassette, yes I too was stupid so smell the roses, and be a little smart arse like me and see beyond the advertising.

I exagerate

Bez,
I say Bez, the truth is this,
I was walking through town, down a side street, headphones on maximum,
on the verge of nearly singing when from nowhere this Silver Beetle
screams past with its stereo pumping. I noticed the driver was Bez,
the mondays version of Cressa, anyway I nearly jumped out of my skin.
End of story.

It was not the end of the story though, as I walked along the backstreet with its narrow pavements it became, "That man is a cock, if I had stood in the road
he could have run me over" so when I recounted the story to my girlfriend later that evening it was not, I jumped out of my skin when a car came past, it became Bez tried to run me over. Now I am not a liar, so I rephrased it and explained the whole thing again where he just made me jump.

Fast forward a day or two, I am walking down the same alleyway with headphones on full blast, nearly singing along and there is some wet cardboard on the floor, it looks like it smells of piss, so I walk on the road briefly, In my head I get a vision of Bez coming up behind me, beeping his horn. I start to think what an absolute cunt Bez is, and I decide that if indeed that did happed I would give him the finger and call him a cunt. In fact I was sure that is what I would do as he drives like a goon.

I get to the bus stop and I am still angry with him and replay the imagined incedent in my head, and decide that I might actualy get a bit nervous calling him a cunt, it's not exactly Dorothy Parker, so I decide instead that I should call him a yanky toothed bastard, as he has just had a tooth job, but he might not get that, so I resigned myself to calling him, tooth cunt, not ellegant but to the point.

I then got on the bus and thought hang on, this never happened, i just had a two minute bit of anger for something that never happened, and you know whose fault it is, yes, Bez's for nearly running me over the yanky toothed cunt.